


Reliable

by Orianne (morganya)



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-05
Updated: 2003-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-25 17:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/272911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganya/pseuds/Orianne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you know someone too well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reliable

Seemingly he was always there. Inside Colin's head, a low laughing voice around the corner of his thoughts. He could anticipate every move Ryan made, every word he spoke. Like having a shadow. Sometimes Colin wasn't so sure whose shadow it belonged to.

"Understanding," Ryan said flatly one morning. "That's what it is, isn't it?"

Colin didn't answer. He supposed it was. An understanding that began at the molecular level.

"Shit," Ryan said. "We don't even have to say 'yes' to each other." He rose from the table, splaying his hands on the kitchen countertop. Colin looked outside and watched the light glint off the top of Ryan's pool, the water looking less like liquid and more like flat blue glass. He still didn't answer. There was a gap in the language, no more need to explain. 'Yes' was a word for which they had no use anymore.

"You could at least try," Ryan said. "Humor me."

Colin turned his head back from the sliding door. "You mean you'd like answers?" He didn't know if this was a new conversation or an old one just replayed, their conversational parts laid down as though they were scripted. Ryan spoke, a beat's wait, Colin spoke. Rhythm like dripping water.

"No, I don't want fucking answers. I want…I'd like to think that I can still explain things once in a while. You know, like normal people?"

"I don't think anything's really stopping you."

For a moment Ryan looked at him; it felt like a real look, not just the usual confirmation of his presence. It was Ryan sizing him up, gauging the response he was going to give him. He took his hands from the countertop and walked over to the door. "Things are always changing, Col. It's the way it goes. People growing, not getting stuck in a rut. You know. Changing."

"We've changed." They'd grown up together, worked together. Colin could see Ryan at nineteen, at twenty five, at thirty five, and now at forty three. They'd seen each at their most and least successful. Good times and bad. "We've changed together."

"Yeah. Together. Always together. I can't say anything that surprises you anymore, can I?"

Colin struggled to find the words. "It doesn't matter to me."

"I guess it doesn't. Knew I could count on you, Col. Mr. Reliable." Ryan opened the door. There were dogs barking outside. There were no birds singing. Colin had yet to hear birdsong in all the years he'd been coming to Los Angeles.

"Understanding," Ryan repeated and shut the door. "All it is. There's no need for wreaths and bells and any of that crap. Just the both of us, here, understanding each other."

Circular talk, winding in around itself. "What else were you looking for? Someone who *doesn't* understand you?"

"No. I wasn't looking for anything. I just got thrown together with you and it worked for some fucking reason. I guess that's all everyone ever wants. To have something work. Companionship."

"Not…"

"Don't start with that 'love' shit again, okay, Col? We're both too old for that."

"Fine," Colin said quietly. "Companionship. That's it, I guess."

"Don't be such a martyr."

"Well, what am I here for then? Just to listen to you telling jokes?"

"Yeah, Colin. I'm sure that's what it is." Ryan walked out of the kitchen. Colin knew he would follow him. He was already standing and walking after him, no need to think about it, just an automatic reaction. Ryan moved, Colin moved with him.

Ryan lay on his back in the bedroom, looking up at the ceiling. Colin stood in the center of the room, watching him. Ryan was incredibly still, a stylized posture.

"What are you doing?" Colin said.

"I'm lying here," Ryan said. "What else does it look like?"

"You look like you're at your own funeral, is what it looks like."

"Don't start; I know where this is headed." Ryan stood up. "Ever wonder if there's such a big difference between heaven and hell?"

"Intellectual thoughts for you."

"I'm sure you really care."

"Ryan---" Colin bit off the words he was going to say, words he knew Ryan had already anticipated. "I can't help being a part of you, you know."

"Really? I don't see that."

"Oh, Christ." Colin walked over to the dresser. Ryan still kept his family portraits there. One of Ryan's wife, one of Ryan's children, and one of Ryan alone. Ryan's picture was placed between the two others on the dresser.

"Got to be a change, Col. Sooner or later."

"There has been. I've just changed along with you."

"I wish you'd fucking stop. Let me change by myself, okay? You don't need to be a partner in everything I do."

Ryan got up again and headed for the door, retreating. Colin wondered if he should put a break in the routine, do something unexpected. The only trouble was that he wasn't sure if anything was unexpected anymore.

Ryan was back in the kitchen. Colin said, "You know, I can chase you all over the house, but I think we're both a little old for that."

"We do it pretty well though."

"Will you do me a favor and tell me what you want?"

"Don't you already know?"

Colin stared at him. Ryan's eyes were hooded. And the truth was, Colin did already know what he wanted. Ryan wanted not to know him so well.

Colin reached up and grabbed Ryan's shoulders. "I *can't,* Ryan. I can't be any different."

"Why not?"

"Because it's still me. I'm still me. I can't change that, any more than you."

Ryan grasped the back of his neck, yanking him close. He pressed his mouth to Colin's. Automatically Colin parted his lips to let Ryan into his mouth, slowly, the way Ryan liked him to.

Ryan backed him up against the wall, pinioning his arms above his head. Colin dimly remembered the first time Ryan had pulled this trick. Was it five, ten years ago? It must have been ten, one late drunken night in a club, Ryan slamming him against the dressing room wall, mouth smoky with whiskey and nicotine, Colin so startled he couldn't catch his breath. That night Ryan had pinned him like a butterfly for the first time, but it wasn't the first time he'd taken control. Ryan always had control of him whether he liked it or not.

Ryan pulled his mouth away from Colin's. Colin waited for the familiar sensation of cold air to die away from his skin. He didn't take his eyes away from Ryan. His shoulders began to ache.

"Ten years ago," Ryan said. "Maybe it was five when we first did this. Huh, Col?"

"I didn't mark it on my calendar, if that's what you mean."

"You know exactly what I mean." Ryan let him go and watched Colin rotate his shoulders. "Back then, I could keep you like that for ten minutes before you got sore. Then it got down to eight, then to five, now it's lucky if I can get two."

"Do you always note how long it takes?"

"Not until recently. You get to know someone so well…" Ryan broke off, shaking his head violently. He put his hands on Colin's shoulders and pushed, forcing him to a kneeling position.

"I could say no," Colin said. "Walk out."

"But you won't." Ryan unzipped his pants. "You never do."

"Don't sound so disappointed."

"Don't lecture me until you get up off your knees." Ryan let his pants puddle around his ankles. Colin saw his cock pressing against the fabric of his briefs. Ryan always wore briefs.

Colin tugged the briefs down, watched Ryan's cock spring out into the palm of his hand. He shut his eyes; he could remember all the times this had happened before. He sucked his breath in and closed his mouth over Ryan's cock, tasting salt and warmth. He realized he was shaking.

Colin reached one hand up and traced a straight line down across Ryan's abdomen, feeling all the hollows and ridges of his body. He ran his fingertips over the scar on the top of Ryan's thigh (he'd walked into the sharp end of a table two years ago, they'd been in the emergency room for four hours, Colin holding his hand the whole time). He knew this body so well it was almost his own. That was a lie. He knew it better than his own. The idea of ever losing it was worse than the idea of dying.

He took his mouth away for a second, staring up into Ryan's eyes. He thought he saw Ryan's expression soften, that there was infinite tenderness in his eyes.

"I love you," Colin said, and again, almost inaudibly, "I love you."

Ryan met his eyes and then looked away. "I knew you were going to say that."


End file.
